


The Companionship of Canis Lupus

by zoemathemata



Series: A Boy and his (were)Wolf [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash, Puppy Play, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoemathemata/pseuds/zoemathemata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A companion piece to The Domestication of Canis Lupus, this time from Derek's POV. As a wolf, his emotions are simpler, easier. He sees Stiles. He is happy. </p>
<p>Unbeta'd</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Companionship of Canis Lupus

Laura had been able to shift into a wolf. 

As a child, he was _so jealous_ in the way that only siblings can be jealous of each other - full of animosity and envy all tangled up with years of ‘you touched my _stuff_ , Laura!’ and ‘Mom! Derek’s _looking at me_ again!’. 

He remembers, once, during a fight, Laura shifted for the first time, into a wolf, and suddenly, their sibling-slap-flight had turned serious as Laura tried to bat Derek around with her big, black paws, claws extended. He was twelve, Laura fourteen so they were still pretty evenly physically matched until she’d shifted. His mother shifted as well and bit Laura on the neck, yanking her off by the scruff and pushing her down with one of her large, grey padded feet. 

His mother had shifted back, seconds later, still crouching over Laura, who didn’t have the ability to shift back as quickly and was still a wolf, and she’d snarled, “You don’t hurt family like that and _certainly_ not when you’re shifted.” 

Laura whined a bit, meek and submissive, avoiding eye contact. His mother had whirled on him then.

“And you, mister! Stop poking around your sister’s room! This whole house is our den, but that’s _where she sleeps_ and is unacceptable.”

He’d whined a bit too and curled to the ground. 

Their cold war had lasted two more weeks until Laura came back from the 7-11 one afternoon and tossed a packet of Nerds at him. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. 

“Nerds for the nerd,” she smirked and then plopped down on the couch on the other side, kicking her feet up on the coffee table and slurping her blue raspberry slurpee. He was in a similar position on the other end of the sofa - both of them with their long legs stretched out. 

“What’s it like?” he asked, pouring some of the sugary candy into his hand and then tossing back a mouthful. 

“Being a wolf?” she asked back, immediately knowing what he was asking. He nodded. She’d been shifting back and forth since she learned she could. 

She pursed her lips and thought. “Like some things are more powerful. I can smell a lot now but it’s like it’s easier to compartmentalize and process it when I’m the wolf. I don’t have to… think about it as much. I hear sharper too. Better at the higher frequencies. Thinking is different. Feeling too.”

“Different how?” 

She shrugged. “I dunno. It’s like… home and family… those things feel kind of the same. But like I don’t worry about my chem midterm or the English essay I bombed.” She frowned. “But I get really happy when I see Dad’s car pull up. More when I’m the wolf than when I’m, well, human. I mean, I’m happy to see Dad come home all the time, but I don’t really think about it?” she said, turning to look at him. “But when I see that car and I’m the wolf, I’m _so happy_.”

She poked his foot with her own. “I even get happy to see you, dick breath.”

He snorted and tossed more candy into his mouth. “You’re the one with dick breath,” he replied back, teasing. “I saw you go with Michael Stutton behind the bleachers after school.”

“Derek!” she jerked her feet off the table and stood up. “You’re such a child. Did you tell mom? You better not have told mom or I’ll rip your throat out.”

“I didn’t tell mom, I’m not a snitch,” Derek said back hotly.

Her eyes narrowed as she listened to his heart and then she ground her jaw. “Okay. But stay outta my business.”

“As if I want any part of it anyway. Gross. Michael Stutton? He’s such a knuckle dragger.”

She smirked. “I know. It’s why I think I like him.” She rolled her eyes at herself and Derek’s grimace of disgust. 

“You’re just jealous,” she sing-songed. “But don’t worry, Der, someday you’ll have all the pretty girls falling at your feet.” she paused. “Swooning from the stench.”

He rolled his eyes at her this time. “Shut up, Laura.”

She laughed and then looked at him carefully. “Or maybe… all the pretty boys?”

“Shut up!” he said and he threw a handful of nerds at her. She opened her mouth as he did it and tried to catch a bunch of them. A few landed in her mouth and the rest sprayed across her face and then slipped down into the couch. 

“Mom is totally gonna sniff those out.”

Derek scowled. “Fuck. I better go get the vacuum.”

She sighed and looked extremely put upon. “I’ll do it, moron. I’m up anyway.” She took one second and then lifted her foot up to kick at him again. “Der, if you did like guys, I wouldn’t… I mean, I don’t care. Like I care ‘cause you’re my brother but,” she shrugged. “I don’t care.”

He couldn’t look up at her, just looked down at the box of Nerds in his lap, turning it over in his hands. “Um. Thanks.”

“But seriously, go in my room again, and I’m killing you.”

He thinks of her now, as he shifts into his wolf form and he finally understands what she was trying to put into words those years ago. 

He feels more and less as the wolf. He still feels grief for his family and more than once he’s paused in his late night run to howl at the dark sky and bright moon for them. He feels a kinship with the pack, a duty but the weight of responsibility is as cutting. They are pack. He is alpha. He will look after them until he can’t do it anymore. They will submit or he will make them submit. 

There’s no… hate as the wolf. There is anger but it’s the sharp sting of instant anger - something is hurting him and he snaps at it, something annoys him and he grows. There isn’t any sense of a meditative anger, a lingering rage. The feeling burns through him and then is gone. 

There’s more contentment as the wolf. A slight breeze, a shady spot in the wood, a damp, cool spot to lie in on a sunny day - these things make him content and there is no further thought past ‘ _this is good right now_.’

So when he feels like he’s thinking too much or spinning wheels in his head, he knows it’s time to shift and spend some time as the wolf. It calms him down, makes him focused, brings him back to center. 

He’s out hunting a rabbit and vaguely, in the back of his mind, he hears a car approaching but he doesn’t register it as a dangerous sound so he pretty much ignores it. He’s so close to the rabbit, so close! He can smell it and feel it and hear it and almost see it even in the dark of the hole he’s digging. He’s frustrated. He’s so close!

He hears a snap and push-pulls himself out of the hole turning toward the sound. 

Stiles. 

He can’t stop himself as he gives a little hop-skip over and he can tell Stiles is scared, can smell it on him and see it in his eyes but he’s _so happy_ to see Stiles. Stiles is pack! It’s been so long since he’s had pack. He can’t stop as he barrels into him and knocks him off his feet and starts licking him. He’s salty and _pack_ and he wants to know where Stiles has been and what he’s being doing and so he sniffs him - he had toast for breakfast and pizza for lunch and he’s taken his pills today but earlier in the morning and he showered but he’s wearing yesterday’s t-shirt and last night he was next to his dad for a while and at some point, he’s had some gum and he stepped in some french fries. But also he smells like _trust_ and _loyalty _and _reliability___. Stiles is talking to him, saying something, and then he squeals and Stiles hands are pushing at him and he’s squirming and it’s playing! 

He pushes off and sits on the ground and he can’t stop his tail from wagging and he’s panting and he stares at Stiles. 

“Holy crap! Derek?”

Stiles knows him and that makes him happy and he pushes a paw at Stiles and noses and sniffs at his neck again.

“Gross. Slobber much?”

He wants to nip at Stiles because it’s not gross it just _is_ but-

He sees the rabbit. 

_prey prey prey run!_

When he gets back, Stiles is gone. 

***  
Of course he feels silly and embarrassed as soon as he shifts back. He would never act that way as a human but it seemed so natural as the wolf and like there was no reason not to. He tries to shrug it off and not think about it but he sees Stiles look at him with mischief in his eyes one time and he turns and gives him a look. 

Mostly because he just can’t talk about it. He just… can’t. 

Amazingly, Stiles doesn’t say anything. 

***

He doesn’t exactly hang out in the woods waiting for Stiles, but when he hears his Jeep coming up the road, he makes no move back to the house to shift back either. It’s the same feeling as before. A feeling of - Stiles! Pack! Happy! And he’s trotting toward Stiles before he knows it. Stiles looks happy to see him. He smells happy and relaxed (and a little bit like chinese food and too much laundry soap and only one of his socks was new this morning, the other is from yesterday). 

Then Stiles goes back into his Jeep for a moment and when he comes back out he’s got something that smells like store and new and machine-made. 

Tennis ball. 

He looks at the ball and then at Stiles who smells like nervous and uncertainty and he’s fidgeting a bit and then Derek is running back to the forest, pausing to look back when he doesn’t hear Stiles following him. 

Stiles throws the ball and Derek’s eyes snap on it immediately and he already knows how fast he has to run, where it will want to land and he’s going to get it before it hits the ground. He hears Stiles trundling after him into the woods and he feels the ground soft and cool under his feet. 

He’s happy. 

***

Derek never thought something so small and green would make him so… crazed. He’d smelled the leprechaun on his territory but couldn’t place the scent. It had taken a few days of research before he finally remembered it from a learning hunt with his Dad - remembered his Dad explaining to him that if you let one leprechaun in, they’d take over the whole forest, like beavers. 

But leprechauns were sneaky and tricky and by the time it was all over, Stiles had been hurt. 

Leprechauns, like most of the fey, were essentially immortal but Derek is certain he sent this one home licking enough wounds to remind all of them that Hale territory is off limits. 

He still feels keyed up and anxious after the fight - like a spool of wire wound to tightly. He shifts and goes for a run in the forest. 

He ends up in Beacon Hills under Stiles window. 

The big oak tree outside the Stilinkski house has low hanging branches and although he knews it’s tricky, if he’s fast enough, he should be able to leapfrog up them and get to Stiles window. 

Luckily, the wolf doesn’t _think_ so much as _intuit_ steps and jumps and he’s bounding up the old tree, branches creaking under his weight until he’s at the window, more like a cat than a wolf. 

Stiles is asleep in bed and Derek pads over, sniffing the air. Stiles smells like hurt and sick and pain. He sniffs again and gets the tinge of medication under that too. He hops up on the bed and curls into a ball, listening to the slow breaths of Stiles as he sleeps. 

He feels Stiles stir before he actually wakes up, sees Stiles blink open his eyes and focus on him. 

“Creepy, dude. Not cool. I’m not playing Bella to your Edward. Just… no.”

He’s sweaty and salty and still smells like sick and hurt. It makes him whine back in his throat. Derek uncurls and shifts forward, crouching on his belly, pushing his face into Stiles side. He doesn’t like Stiles hurt. Pack getting hurt hurts him. Makes him feel sick. 

Stiles’ hand flops down on his head and it’s hot and sweaty. Stiles’ pets him and it puts Stiles’ scent on Derek, the same way that Derek pressing up against him puts his scent on Stiles. Stiles’ scratches absently behind one of his ears and it feels good. Feels safe. 

Derek dozes but doesn’t actually sleep the rest of the night. By the time the sun is coming up, Stiles doesn’t smell so much like sick anymore, and although he still smells hurt, he’s better. 

He hops off the bed and pads softly over to the window. Even though it’s far, he knows he can make it in one jump. 

He hits the grass and dirt with a solid thump and then trots back to his house. 

***

Stiles comes over to play now. He’s got ropes and balls and Derek’s pretty sure he can smell some kind of plushy animal on some of the toys but he hasn’t seen one yet so maybe Stiles is not sure about bringing that one out. 

Derek would love to sink his teeth into it and rip the stuffing out. Just thinking about it makes his tail wag. 

He likes to run far ahead of Stiles and then turn around and watch Stiles lope after him. Sometimes Stiles slips or falls and Derek has to run back and sniff him over and make sure he’s not hurt. 

Or sometimes Stiles takes a long time to get up a steep slope and Derek runs back down and trots circles around him while he lumbers up the hill. 

Stiles brings his lacrosse stick and he can toss the ball so far that Derek hasn’t been able to catch it before it hits the ground. 

Yet. 

Derek is surprised because Stiles doesn’t talk much when they’re in the forest. He thought Stiles had on setting -on- and that was it. But he’s quiet in the woods. Sometimes he complains about how fast Derek is or he makes jokes like of course he can’t keep up, he’s got two less legs. 

But mostly, he just walks along, chases after Derek sometimes, lets Derek chase him (slowly - Derek finds it so slow to chase Stiles), pulls and tugs with the rope, throws the ball again and again. 

He laughs though. 

He laughs a lot. 

It makes Derek want to howl along with him in joy.

But he doesn’t.

They stop by the creek and the water is cold and smells fresh and clean and Derek laps it up, getting it on his muzzle and whiskers as he does. He has to clean his chops after with a couple of big, sweeping tongue licks and then he walks over to where Stiles is sitting by a tree. 

He presses up against him as he sits, their flanks touching. In the wild it means safety and pack and I’m close and I know where you are. 

He stretches out, putting his belly and neck to the cool ground and feels Stiles’ hand drop onto his head and start scratching. It’s feels good and without thinking he rolls over and presents his belly. 

“Dude, have a little respect.”

He hits him with one of his paws. He just wants his tummy rubbed. He likes Stiles.

He trusts Stiles. 

Stiles runs his long fingers through the fur, scratching and tickling a bit. It feels good, like a scalp massage and Derek preens, stretching his joints further.

“I guess what happens in the forest stays in the forest, hey?”

Derek tips his head back and enjoys the feeling of being safe and… happy. Stiles is pack but he’s not a beta or an omega. Derek is his Alpha but he doesn’t have to be in charge of Stiles, not like with the other weres. He can just… be. 

He flips back over, onto his four paws and starts trotting back toward the house, hungry for dinner. He hears Stiles laugh and start coming along behind him. 

***

Sometimes, he just doesn’t think he can do this. 

He just doesn’t know if he can be the Alpha they need, the Alpha they deserve. 

The pack was hurt tonight and although everyone got out alive, the witches were strong and it could have gone either way. 

He can feel the inability to shift buzzing under his skin, like a thrum of _wrong_. The witch they’d caught said it would wear off but he’s nervous and tense. He needs to be able to shift. To protect the pack, to protect his home. 

He feels the hurt of his pack in his bones like an ache that can’t be touched by painkillers or sleep. The burns on his arm are hot and raw and he knows that all of the wolves have them, all of them feeling pain that they can’t make go away. 

He can hear the Boyd, Isaac and Erica sleeping in the other room - the pile of them breathing and making soft pained sounds occasionally. He’s glad they have each other. They need each other. Pack mates group together in times of need, the same way siblings do. 

Like he and Laura used to do. 

But he’s odd man out now. Alpha, in charge, but not entirely one of the group. He does his best to foster closeness and the feeling of pack, of belonging, but he recognizes that as Alpha, he needs to stay a little bit separate, a little bit apart from them. 

They need to see him always strong and standing between them and danger. 

But he’s so tired. He misses Laura. He misses his family. He misses being able to curl up against them knowing his mother, the Alpha, was in charge and responsible. 

He supposes he never realized how much his parents had needed each other until he had to be Alpha by himself. 

Stiles is by the doorway and if Derek could keep him here by telepathic will, he’d do it. He doesn’t want to be alone, doesn’t want to watch Stiles leave, but he can’t voice the need to have him stay. 

As Alpha he can’t have any weaknesses. 

But Stiles doesn’t leave. He steps carefully, quietly over to the couch and Derek wants to sigh in relief, wants to relax and let the tension bleed out of his body but he can’t. 

He _can’t_. 

Stiles sits down, the sofa jiggling a bit under his weight and Derek breathes in quietly through his nose and scents him. All the smells are still there; trust, loyalty, reliability. 

And just the plain scent that equals Stiles and means pack and safe and happy to Derek now. 

He feels Stiles hand on his neck and he stills, not sure what it means. 

And then Stiles starts petting him. Petting him like Stiles does when Derek’s the wolf and it feels warm and familiar. Stiles cards his fingers through Derek’s hair and then finds that one spot behind his ear that he really likes and that _almost_ makes his foot thump sometimes when Stiles scratches there. 

Derek’s tired and he _hurts_. 

He leans over, afraid Stiles will say something or move, or somehow this moment will end and he doesn’t want to mess it up, doesn’t want to go back to being alone and tired. He folds over Stiles legs, tucking his own up on the sofa and if he closes his eyes, if he doesn’t think, then he can be the wolf right now. He doesn’t have to be Derek, the Alpha, he can just… be. 

Stiles hand runs down his side and his flank, and it’s soft and he feels safe. 

He feels like he can sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't intend for 'Domestication' to have a sequel or companion piece, but I started thinking about Derek's POV and what his wolf time with Stiles meant to him and wanted to write it.


End file.
